


You Can Hear It In the Silence

by bipercabeth



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: College AU, F/M, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-31
Updated: 2018-12-31
Packaged: 2019-09-30 23:29:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17233169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bipercabeth/pseuds/bipercabeth
Summary: In which Annabeth realizes she has feelings for her best friend mid-breakdown. A bit of angst and a lot of fluff ensues.





	You Can Hear It In the Silence

Annabeth doesn’t even change out of her pajama shorts before barging into the bitter cold. Not that she would’ve had time to change with her roommate halfway to second base in the twin bed across the room.

As if her day couldn’t get worse, her shitty roommate verging on voyeurism was neither the weirdest nor the worst thing that’s happened. A bombed exam and an out of the blue call from her dad both have Annabeth reeling as she waits by the curb.

Her thumb hovers above the call button on Percy’s contact when she’s welcomed by the familiar sight of his blue Jeep. A grin slides onto her face as her best friend pulls up, his hair wild.

“Still happy with your decision to live on campus this year?” He leans over and calls out the passenger side window. 

“Not today, Perce,” she groans as she climbs in, letting the door slam behind her. “It’s been a _day_.”

Percy shoots her a sympathetic look before changing the music. A smile tugs at the corners of Annabeth’s lips when she sees her ‘80s divas’ playlist pulled up on his Spotify, but he switches it to his ‘late nights’ mix before he pulls away.

“Legally Blonde bad? Or Inside Out bad?” 

“I don’t think I’m up for a movie.” She mumbles. Movie nights are their go-to after shitty days regardless of the time they start, so Annabeth knows she can’t blame her lack of enthusiasm on the fact it’s nearing midnight—not that she has to hide why she’s upset from Percy. Still, she leaves it at a clipped, “a lot has happened today.”

Annabeth steals a glance at him, half expecting him to prod further, but his gaze is fixed on the road before him. 

Seeing as the conversation isn’t continuing, she curls her bare legs into her torso and watches the streetlights pass by. Really, she could have at least grabbed a warmer sweater before marching out of her room.

At a red light Percy notices the goosebumps spreading across her body and reaches into the backseat. Something soft lands on her legs, Annabeth unfurls it and recognizes his old AHS Swim hoodie. It’s his favorite to wear and her favorite to steal. Her eyes find his, and his body language softens. 

Annabeth pulls it over her head and sighs as warmth surrounds her and brings with it the comfortable, familiar scent of Percy: ocean breeze and the slightest hint of chlorine from his countless swim practices. Annabeth tugs the sleeves over her hands and feels herself finally defrosting.

With the temperature pushed from the forefront of her mind, her gaze drifts back to Percy. The soft lights of the sleeping city pass over his face as they drive along the streets to his apartment. Annabeth doesn’t remember when her best friend grew up, when the awkward boy she met became so beautiful, but it’s not the first time the thought has occurred to her. Percy might not appreciate her word choice, but he _is_ beautiful—with his high cheekbones, defined jawline, and thick, arched brows. But there are still parts of that boy in him: she can see it in the faint splash of freckles across his nose, the laugh lines beside his eyes, and most prominently in his smile. It’s still that infuriating troublemaker smile, but the light in his eyes often betrays his lips.

That’s not the look he gives her now though, as his brows crinkle with worry. It’s a face he’s given her sparingly over the years, his features far more scrunched up and sympathetic than usual. Annabeth can tell what he’s thinking, and it’d be a disservice to Percy to think he couldn’t read similarly between the lines of her silence. Sometimes it makes Annabeth wonder if she’s always been an open book despite her efforts, or if Percy is just that attuned to her emotions. Either way, she’s certain he hears what she doesn’t say. 

It’s been two years since Annabeth has spoken to her dad and three since she was the one to initiate contact between them. Her move to New York had been a clean cut from the family she’d tried to leave behind all those times in California when she was little. Annabeth is good at running away from her problems, and college across the country allowed her to do it without looking back. One short phone call announcing she wasn’t coming home was all it took for her to solidify her decision.

By some miracle, she ended up at the same college as Percy. The two were already friends from summers spent at camp, but reached a new level of friendship in freshman year when Percy realized she would be alone for Thanksgiving. After a long conversation and a lot of back and forth, he and his mom, Sally, managed to kidnap Annabeth for the holiday season. Annabeth was never fond of the holidays—she had no reason to be growing up—but spending time with the Jacksons has done wonders for her spirits in the years since.

The engine goes quiet as he pulls the keys out of the ignition. Annabeth hops out and buries herself in his hoodie to stop the wind nipping at her exposed skin. Percy is dressed far more warmly than she is, whereas her legs are exposed to the full wrath of the New York weather. He lifts an arm for her and she tucks herself against him while they walk toward his apartment building. They don’t part, even when the warm air of the lobby washes over them. Silence remains between them still, but Annabeth finds comfort in the way Percy’s fingers trace meaningless shapes on her shoulder.

Physical contact wasn’t something Annabeth was big on until she became best friends with the touchiest person in all of New York. For her, touch had always been more of a courtesy than a form of intimacy, reserved for brief demonstrations of greeting or parting. Percy, on the other hand, has always been extremely tactile: taking her hand to lead her somewhere when he’s excited, putting a protective hand on her back while crossing traffic, falling asleep on her shoulder during movie nights—hell, they’ve even cuddled in the later stages of their friendship. (But Annabeth has seen him do the same with Jason, so she tries not to read into it too much. She’s cuddled similarly with Piper too.)

But somewhere along the way, Annabeth realized she likes being held; she likes the physical reminder of someone’s presence and the way it grounds her, keeps her from falling in on herself and retreating into her mind. It’s what she needs now.

Percy only withdraws his arm from her to dig his keys from his pocket and hold the door of his apartment open.

“No Grover today, he’s staying at Juniper’s tonight.” he explains as she walks in.

Despite Annabeth’s love for Grover, it somewhat relieves her that it’s only her and Percy tonight. Mostly because the odds of her crying are extremely high, and Annabeth would prefer Percy to be the only witness.

“What happened?” Percy’s gentle voice calls her from her thoughts.

“Bombed my architecture exam big time, definitely going to pay for that one. And my roommate was ten seconds away from getting it on with me still in the room.” Green eyes flit between hers, sympathy swimming in them, but Percy arches an eyebrow at her and she knows there’s no point in delaying it.

“Anything else?” His tone tells her he knows the answer.

“My dad called today.” Annabeth’s voice is uncharacteristically small as she falls into his couch. Percy is beside her in an instant, sitting close and reaching for her. She’s pliant in his arms and lays her head against his chest.

“What’d he say?” His voice remains measured. Annabeth can feel it rumble against her temple.

“D’know. I didn’t answer, and he didn’t leave a voicemail.”

“Hold on,” he pulls back to look her in the eyes. Their usual playful shine is replaced by a hard glint, “he hasn’t reached out to you in years, and when he finally does, he doesn’t bother to leave a fucking voicemail?” Percy’s voice lowers in volume and increases in intensity. Not trusting herself to speak, Annabeth nods in response.

While she knows this anger isn’t directed at her, his quickness to it on her behalf isn’t much of a comfort right now. But he knows this—knows her—and the anger fades as instantly as it flared. Annabeth feels his exhale before his lips press against her forehead and he pulls her back into him.

There was a time in their friendship where Percy tried to convince her to reach out to her dad. It was a tough time for both of them, and the baggage they carry from their respective childhoods being thrown into the open nearly tore them apart. They clashed constantly as Annabeth, finally free from her years of neglect, cut off her dad, and Percy argued she should be grateful to even have an option, thinking of his own deadbeat father. 

Annabeth isn’t proud of how far they got in their feud, but it came to a screeching halt when she cried in front of Percy for the first time. That particular night began with a nasty argument, both sides slinging words they knew would hurt the other. Annabeth’s pride and Percy’s temper led to some crossed lines, and anything after that is a blur. It was all over once the tears started falling and they realized what they were doing to each other. 

Annabeth was ready to run away again. Her hand was on the door when Percy grabbed her other. All fire and fury from their fight, she whipped around to face him. But when she met his eyes, she knew she couldn’t leave like this. He wouldn’t physically stop her, but there was no way she could look into his eyes and still find it within herself to walk away. So she didn’t. She didn’t run from her emotions; she and Percy sat in them on the floor of his apartment and just talked to each other. It was that honest and open communication that saved them. 

One night was not the cure-all for their issues, but it was that night she realized Percy would always be by her side. Annabeth showed Percy a side of herself that she’d never let anyone see before, and not only had he not left her: he had stopped her from leaving him as well. 

“What’s going on up there?” Percy now asks, lightly tapping his finger where his lips just were.

Annabeth draws in a shaky breath. “I don’t know,” she exhales, and then her breath hitches and _goddamnit it’s too early for tears_. “I _hate_ not knowing.” She manages.

“Just word vomit then. Don’t think. Just talk it out until you understand.” It’s a tactic she’s used on him before, and despite the tears welling in her eyes, she lets out a huff that could pass as a chuckle under different circumstances. But he’s patient, always so patient with her, and gives her time to collect herself. In the meantime, his big hands settle on her back and continue tracing gentle patterns.

When Annabeth continues, her voice is so small she almost doesn’t recognize it. “I don’t know if I _want_ to know, Percy.” He doesn’t respond, so she gives in and lets the word vomit take over. “I worked _so hard_ to get where I am without him, and I don’t want to go back to where I was the last time we talked. I can’t let myself fall back down that hole. I barely got out of it last time.”

“Annabeth,” he whispers. She shakes her head against his chest. He repeats her name and gingerly peels her off him: his hands hold her face and force her to make eye contact. “You’re not falling back down there; I won’t let you. You were that way because you were alone, but you’re _not alone_ , Annabeth. You’ve got Piper, and Thalia, and Jason, and Grover, and the whole gang behind you this time. And you’ve got me. Always.”

It’s these words of kindness that break Annabeth. Because goddamnit he’s just so _good_ to her in a way that nobody else has been. With a sob, she buries herself in his chest and he lets her stay there. Their height difference is something he often teases her about, but she appreciates it in moments like these where she allows herself to simply be held, to be small and let someone take care of her for once. Nobody else has ever made her feel so safe with a simple embrace—no other friends, and _certainly_ not her family.

 _Family_. Annabeth hates that she still calls them that. She hates that she still calls her dad ‘Dad’ in conversations when ‘my father’ is such an easy way to establish distance. She hates that parts of her still feel like that scared seven-year-old running away for the first time. She hates that she’s still running.

The way her gasps for breath jerk her around cannot be comfortable for Percy, but his arms remain steadfast around her. If he’s surprised or scared by her outburst, she can’t tell from her vantage point. He just holds her, and it’s both as simple as it sounds and as far from simple as it gets.

 _Family_. She’s surprised she didn’t notice it sooner. Because how many times has Percy referred to their group nights as ‘family dinners’? How many times has he talked her down from a ledge or pulled her out of the rut she dug herself?

Many times, Annabeth has wondered where she’d be without Percy, and she’s always concluded that she’d be here, but sadder. Now she isn’t as sure. She’s discredited her feelings with pale comparisons within their friend group, but nothing can compare this to the way she and Piper have held each other. Here in his arms, Annabeth feels dumb for even thinking that.

Where would she have gone tonight? Would she have gone to Piper’s to get drunk? She wouldn’t be close to Piper; the two became close when Percy broke his leg skating and he told Piper to call Annabeth before 911. To Jason? Her first conversation with him that didn’t involve schoolwork was at a post-meet dinner with the swim team that Percy invited her to. She runs down the list, and each conclusion comes down to Percy. It’s always come down to Percy.

 _Just talk it out until you understand_. And she does now. It’s not word vomit—she says none of this out loud—but she understands. She wants to stop running away.

Unaware of how much time has passed, Annabeth realizes that tears no longer fall down her face—they’re wiped away by Percy, who notices the change in her breathing and shifts to look at her.

Her breath deserts her as his eyes search hers. She drinks him in similarly, tries to name every color in his green irises until her vocabulary fails her. They’re as deep and torrential as the ocean; Annabeth lets herself drown in them.

Her body acts of its own accord, bringing her upward to close the distance between them. He’s got specks of gold in the center near his eyes, but they’re quickly devoured by the increasing radius of his pupils. They’re inches away now, eyes blown wide and locked onto each other in some kind of reverie.

“Annabeth...” Percy breathes. His voice is so gentle; part of her wonders what he’s afraid of breaking. It does not snap her from any trance because she isn’t in one. She’s thinking clearly, more than she has in a while. She’s still moving—she’s so close that his breath ghosts on her lips now—and then something changes in him.

Their height difference is now a terrible curse as he straightens his spine, increasing the distance between them. Annabeth does not get a chance to follow him before she’s stopped by his hands on her shoulders.

“Annabeth.” Percy says more firmly this time. “We can’t—I’m not—I _won’t_ take advantage of you like this. It’s well past one AM, you’re emotional and tired, I just can’t. Not like this.” His voice is ragged, and Annabeth isn’t sure who he’s trying to convince more.

“Percy, I’ve wanted to do this for a long time.”

Under her hands, she feels the breath leave his lungs. “Me too. _God_ , me too, but not tonight. Please. For my sake as much as yours.”

Annabeth wants to argue, it’s in the nature of their relationship to, but the beginning of his sentence stops her from opening her mouth.

She doesn’t want to admit it, but he’s right. Despite what movies portray, emotional breakdowns are not a good time for a first kiss. Annabeth is sure of what she wants, but she knows there’s no way to convince Percy. Though waiting is the last thing she wants to do, she respects him and his decision enough to withhold her protest.

“Okay.” She nods and retracts somewhat into her own space. Her body protests the distance, longs to fold against him once more, but she resists the urge and stays put.

“Okay.” Percy’s voice is slightly higher and almost disbelieving, as if he didn’t think it would be so easy.

The adrenaline her body has been running on leaves her system with one massive yawn. Annabeth lets herself burrow into the couch cushions.

Percy’s responding chuckle echoes in her ears. “C’mon sleepyhead.” He stands and moves to grab her hands to haul her to her feet, but Annabeth, unwilling to leave the warmth, tucks them into her torso.

She hears him sigh as his arms move underneath her. A protest forms at her lips when he lifts her into the air, but it dies as she settles against his chest. Her palm rests over his heart, and she tucks her sleepy smile into the crook of his neck when she notices it racing.

Percy always gives up his bed for her when she stays, sleeping on the couch or in Grover’s room depending on whether his roommate is home for the night. After their conversation tonight, she’s sure that’s where he plans to go. The thought sends a jolt of panic through her.

Yes, she’s significantly calmer now, but she isn’t eager to test her limits. Annabeth has never liked the dark; her imagination has always had too much free reign over the shadows.

Her hand flies out to catch his wrist as he sets her on his plush blue comforter. Emotions are swirling around her brain and _damn it he was right not to kiss her_. If she lets go now, there’s a chance she could maintain the image he needs to see to be assured she’s clear-minded, but Annabeth can’t lie to him like that.

“Don’t leave me alone. Please.” Annabeth doesn’t fight to stay neutral. She needs him to see that she needs him. 

A wary look passes over his face, but he must sense her desperation because he gestures for her to scoot over.

When they finally get settled, they’re pressed together enough for her to be aware of his presence, but not enough to make either of them uneasy. Annabeth tangles her cold legs with his warm ones and a heavy weight settles over the room. 

She studies his sharp profile in the moonlight coming through the window behind her. His eyes are closed, but she knows from his breathing that he isn’t asleep.

“Perce?” she whispers.

His eyes remain closed. “Hm?”

“Thanks. For everything. You mean everything to me.” It’s nowhere near everything she wants to say to him, but the warmth and the steady rhythm of his breath is lulling her to sleep. It’ll have to do for now.

She doesn’t hear what he says as she drifts off; all she can make out is the sensation of his voice before she descends into the darkness.

When Annabeth wakes in the morning, there’s a moment where she doesn’t recall the events of last night. She’s at Percy’s, that much she can tell from the scent of his laundry detergent and the look of the soft morning light on his blue walls. But it isn’t Percy’s walls that bring back the events of last night, it’s the boy in the bed next to her.

Annabeth should be panicking. She should be over analyzing every last thing and frantically trying to remember the _exact_ words he said in response to her advances, but she isn’t. Instead, she is oddly at peace.

Percy had shifted positions during the night, and Annabeth looks at their intertwined bodies to find that she had as well. Most of her torso is pressed against his chest, one hand trapped beneath her while the other rests over his heart. Warmth surrounds her as both of his arms do now. She can see his fingers where they rest over her shoulder, and his other hand presses against the small of her back. It’s hard to see his face from this angle. Her head is settled on his shoulder, so her view is blocked by his neck and jaw. Annabeth wants so badly to stretch her neck and kiss up the column of his, but she refrains.

As if he can sense her eyes on him, Percy begins to stir from his slumber as well. Annabeth halts her movements in an attempt to preserve this moment, this haven they lay together in.

“Morning.” Percy attempts to peer down at her. After a beat without a response, he rubs his hand up and down her back. “C’mon Annabeth, I can tell you’re awake.”

Annabeth doesn’t even pretend to be embarrassed of the whine that escapes her as she tries to tuck herself further into his warmth.

“Annabeth, we have to talk.”

His words pull her from her trance. “You’re right.” She says, propping herself up on the elbow underneath her to make eye contact with him. Annabeth doesn’t think before she speaks; her words surprise her, but they feel _right_. “And you’ve been right about my dad too. I’m going to call him later. If he responds, we’ll see how conversation goes, and try to move from there. If he doesn’t respond… then he’s worse than I thought, but at least I’ll feel better knowing I tried. Maybe that’s what it’ll take to put this behind me.”

Percy blinks in surprise. “Whoa, hey. I know it’s got to be hard for you to have gotten here, but don’t forgive him too easily. You need to understand, to get closure—I get that—but don’t compromise yourself just to get it. If this is what you want, I’m with you one hundred percent, but promise me you’ll walk away if it’s bad.”

Annabeth wonders how much thinking he’d done on his own last night. She knows she wasn’t as vocal as he’d prompted her to be, and she recalls most her words being frantic and terrified. With a deep breath, she tries to counter them now.

“I’m not forgiving him. At least, not yet. There’s too much work to do before I can even consider that, but I can’t keep running away from it. I know you’re worried about me getting sucked back down that hole—don’t argue, we both said it, it’s valid—but I’m not worried about it anymore. I know I’ll come out of this alright, because I have you. And Piper, and Thalia, and Jason, and Grover, and this entire messy family I’ve got behind me.”

Pride flickers in his eyes as she echoes the words he spoke to her last night.

“And you were right last night; kissing then would’ve been a bad idea.”

The look on Percy’s face falters as he misses the key word and nods stiffly, like she’s confirming his fears.

“Hey,” Annabeth curses herself for taking such a poorly timed break, but she wants to take her time choosing these words, “kissing then would’ve been a bad idea because I don’t want to be in the state I was in last night for our first kiss.” His eyes snap back to hers, but he can tell she has more to say and gives her the silence to say it.

“Percy, I meant it. All of it. I know I didn’t _say_ too much, but I thought—a _lot_. About you, about all you’ve done for me,” she sees the protest forming on his face and puts a finger to his lips, “and not out of a sense of debt.”

Percy’s eyes search her face as the weight of her words settles over him. His mouth hangs open slightly as he tries to form a response; Annabeth refuses to allow herself to glance down at his lips. He let her say what she needed to say, so she extends the same courtesy to him.

“I meant what I said last night too, about being there for you. This relationship, whether we stay friends or-” he swallows roughly- “become something more, it means the world to me. And no matter what happens, I need you to know that. You aren’t gonna lose me.” His tone is soft, but also strained. 

He’s relaxed significantly since the beginning of the conversation, but he’s still tense with nerves. His heart races under Annabeth’s fingertips.

“I know this is weird timing, and I know that not much I say is going to help with that, but something in me just switched last night. Or maybe it was always like that and I’m just now realizing. I just kept thinking where I’d be without you and realized that I never want to know. I don’t want to see what life is like without you and that’s stopped me from realizing how I felt. Because everyone has left me, Percy, or I’ve left them, but you—I can’t get rid of you. And I was dumb to think you’d ever let me.”

Despite all her knowledge of Percy, all the ticks she’s picked up over the years that allow her to read him like a book, Annabeth can’t make out his emotions now. Perhaps too many are happening at once for one to break through. But after a moment, that goofy, lopsided smile she’s come to love spreads across his face.

“You know, I’ve thought about how I’d say this for a long time, but I’m pretty sure you just stole my thunder, Chase.”

“Get used to it, Jackson,” she quips back, “because I’m never going to make things easy for you.”

And then Percy is moving forward; his arms tighten around her and shift her up his body, giving her proper access to his face. Their eyes lock and it’s both everything and nothing like last night. There’s something delicate in the air, something familiar and foreign and entirely breakable hanging between them: the line they’ve been dancing around for far too long.

Annabeth leans forward and crosses it without a doubt in her mind. 

Her lips fit to Percy’s and _god_ , is this what she’s been missing out on? Kissing him is like floating, like someone has cut all the weight that’s brought her down in the past 24 hours free. Kissing him is reverential and sweet as warmth lazy rivers through her body.

Percy’s hand leaves her shoulders and reaches around to the side of her neck, thumb tracing her jawline and changing the angle of their lips just so. Her hands go to his shoulders and slide up his neck, allowing her to melt into him, to lose herself in the sensation of his lips.

They’re incredibly soft for the New York winter and supple against her own as they move together in an almost effortless push and pull. Annabeth is reminded of the waves lapping at the shores of Montauk: they surge against each other and fall back, taking their sweet time with each other. Because they have time now; they have all the time in the world.

She smiles at the thought, and soon they’re just pressing their smiles against each other, unwilling and unable to stop. But Annabeth wasn’t blessed with Percy’s swimmer lungs, so at some point she has to come up for air. When she does, she appreciates the extra second he takes to open his eyes, and then the way he looks up at her earnestly. His hand travels from her neck to her curls; he buries his fingers near the roots and massages her scalp. Annabeth hums and leans into his touch.

Percy exhales her name, not at the beginning of a sentence or in question—he just lets the word fall from his lips as if the syllables fit in his mouth differently. Perhaps they do now.

In her distraction, Annabeth suddenly finds herself on her back with Percy hovering above her. She hasn’t seen that expression on his face before, but she’s pretty sure it’s splayed across her own features too. And if her own feelings are any indication, there’s a chance it might be a different love than the kind they throw around so casually. 

But as his weight settles onto her and his lips meet hers with a new fervor, Annabeth takes the idea and puts a pin in it, marking it as something to come back to later.

After all, she thinks as the lazy Sunday morning sun illuminates his sea-green eyes, they’ve got time.

**Author's Note:**

> This is a secret santa for olxmpxs on tumblr. Sorry if it doesn't suit your preferences exactly, I'm a backup gifter! I hope you enjoy it all the same!  
> The title is a lyrics from You Are In Love by Taylor Swift, which is what I listened to while writing this.


End file.
